Silent Witness (8 page)

She didn’t wait for an answer or dare to look into his golden-brown eyes for fear she might not have the strength to turn away. She had loved this man with her whole heart—and he’d shattered it into a thousand pieces. She had no intention of giving him the chance to do it again.

She took a second to size up the situation, noting the fire trucks and additional state troopers who had arrived on the scene, the gridlock of parked cars as their occupants stood on the edge of the chaos, watching. She took control and stepped back into sheriff mode as if she hadn’t missed a beat.

“Tom, I just saw Davenport pull up. I’ll brief him on the current situation. I’d like you to start making your way through the crowd and see what you can find out. Maybe someone noticed someone running away from the scene.”

“Yeah, let’s hope they were carrying a high-powered rifle when it ain’t hunting season. That would sew it up for us nice and neat.”

“You never know who saw what until you ask, right? Go work your magic and I’ll meet up with you later.

“Darlene, leave me your car. You can grab a ride back to the office with Sal. I want you to start going through the files and make a list of all our unhappy customers.”

“That’s going to be an awfully long list, Sheriff. I don’t think any of our customers are too happy when we arrest them.”

Liz smiled. “Granted. But I want you to pay attention to anyone we arrested that was particularly belligerent. Someone who reacted out of the norm. Don’t overlook any family member that may have been particularly threatening, either. Remember, this doesn’t have to be about Jeremy. The perp targeted a patrol car. This can be a nutcase bent on revenge against any one of us.”

Liz turned toward Sal. Her eyes searched his, hoping that whatever feelings she thought she might have glimpsed earlier were now gone.

“Sal, I want you to take another long, hard look at the murder case you’re working. Maybe the drug dealer had friends who don’t like us stirring up a hornet’s nest in their territory.”

“Will do, boss.” Sal offered a weak smile—saving face for a macho cop was difficult, for an Italian Romeo even harder. “Just as soon as you let the paramedics take a look at that leg.”

Sal sounded just as cocky and sure of himself as always. She was grateful the awkwardness between them had passed. She didn’t want to lose Sal as a friend or as a colleague. He was too valuable in both categories. She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Okay. I hear you. Now, get back to the office and let’s see if we can’t nip this thing in the bud. Maybe we’ve overlooked something. Maybe somebody thinks we know more about this dealer’s murder than we do.”

As soon as her team dispersed, Liz headed toward Davenport. It took only a few minutes to bring him up to speed on the events of the afternoon. She even spared a second to stop and talk with the fire chief. She requested any pertinent information be sent to her via email or cell phone and took the time to give him her contact information.

Finally, the throbbing in her leg won out. The ache had become sharp, shooting pain that stole her breath and she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. Grimacing, she limped over to the ambulance and poked her head inside.

Jeremy sat on the far end of the stretcher, his teddy bear clutched tightly against his chest. Adam, sporting a thick white bandage across the right side of his forehead, sat beside him.

When Jeremy spotted her, he became excited. He dropped his bear on his lap and flailed his hands. “Go home. Jeremy wants to go home.”

One of the paramedics assisted Liz into the cramped quarters. She scooted toward the cab and sat on a small portable seat opposite the top of the gurney. Unable to resist, she reached out and gently brushed the child’s sweaty, wet locks off his forehead. “I know, sweetheart. I want to go home, too.”

“Jeremy go home.” He pulled his bear to his chest and rocked in an unceasing rhythm.

“How is he?” Liz asked the paramedic crouched beside her.

“Better than you. That wound needs stitches. I need to get you to the hospital.”

Liz never liked the sight of blood, let alone the sight of her own, and the wound made her feel suddenly light-headed.

“No hospital. I’m fine.” Black specks appeared in her line of vision and her stomach somersaulted at the lie. “Just bandage it up.”

“You’re not fine.” Adam spoke for the first time. “You’re stubborn, independent, hardheaded, but you’re not fine. Let the man do his job and take care of that wound.”

Liz bristled beneath the stern tone of his voice. “I certainly don’t need you to tell me what to do, Adam Morgan.” She glared at the paramedic as though his bringing up the subject of her wound was the cause of all their problems. “Now, answer my question. How is Jeremy?”

The two men glanced at each other. The paramedic shrugged as if to say,
I’m doing what she says. You deal with her.

Before the paramedic could report his findings, Adam said, “Surprisingly, Jeremy’s doing fine. He has a couple of bumps and bruises. He’s confused—but so much has happened to him this week that I’m afraid that is becoming his new normal. He’s exhausted from emotional stress. Otherwise, I think he told you exactly how he feels. Jeremy wants to go home.”

Liz nodded. “Okay. That’s what I needed to know.” She started to stand and the interior of the ambulance swirled as if she were seeing it from the inside of a tornado funnel. She sat back down, closed her eyes and held her head in her hands.

Darlene stuck her head inside the ambulance. “Why don’t I take Jeremy outside while you get that leg taken care of?” She had slipped a baseball jacket on over her uniform. Liz was grateful for her sensitivity to Jeremy’s needs.

Adam looked Jeremy in the eyes and told him that Darlene was a friend and would be putting him in the car so they could go home. Surprisingly, the mention of going home this time seemed more important to Jeremy than anything else and he went willingly.

Darlene lifted the boy out of the ambulance. “I’ll leave you my car and go back to the office with Sal as soon as you’re finished in here.”

“The paramedic can’t stitch your leg,” Adam said after the boy was gone. “You have to go to the hospital. You need a doctor.”

Liz heard the self-satisfied tone in his voice and wanted to pitch something at him.

“I have a doctor—you.”

“I’m a psychiatrist.”

“Aren’t psychiatrists medical doctors who specialize in psychiatry?”

“I don’t have what I need on board. Lizzie, go to the hospital.”

“Ever hear of butterfly stitches?”

His sigh exposed his exasperation with her. “Let me take a look. If it’s too deep, you’ll need regular stitches.”

“Just do the best you can, Adam. I am going to make sure Jeremy gets home safely and this investigation is organized before I waste valuable time sitting in an E.R. getting stitches. Pack it. Bandage it. Whatever. But I don’t have time to waste right now.”

Adam saw the determination in her eyes. He pulled his identification out of his wallet and showed it to the paramedic. “I’d appreciate it if you’d slide down and let me take a look at this wound.”

The paramedic looked at the grim expression on the sheriff’s face, grinned and jumped out the back of the wagon. He seemed quite happy not having to deal with the situation, but he didn’t wander far in case he was needed.

Adam cut off the lower half of Liz’s pant leg and rolled up the top, revealing her thigh. He cleaned the wound with peroxide and sprayed it with an antiseptic.

“You’re lucky. It’s nastier looking than it really is.”

His touch was light and gentle, but as his fingers moved across her skin, a rush of sensation pulsed through her body. A flush of heat colored her neck and cheeks. It felt as though someone had suddenly cut off her oxygen supply.

He looked into her eyes and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips. She could tell that he knew what his touch was doing to her. Many things had changed over the years but their reaction to each other wasn’t one of them. She was grateful when he broke eye contact and finished bandaging the wound.

His hand still cradled her thigh and Liz could barely stand the sensations racing through her body at his touch. The second he was finished, she pushed down the top of her pant leg, threw him a quick thank-you, and jumped out of the back of the vehicle.

* * *

Stubborn. Hardheaded. Beautiful. Vulnerable. Strong. A paradox if he’d ever run into one.

Liz was even more intriguing as a grown, independent woman than she’d been as the teenage girl he’d once loved. Adam knew that when he saw her again it would bring back past feelings, questions—and, yes, even pain—to the surface, but he’d thought he’d prepared for their encounter.

Fifteen years was a long time. He wasn’t a boy anymore. He was an adult with all the physical and emotional needs of a man. He had devoted his adult professional years to helping other people understand and cope with their feelings, past hurts and pain so they could move on with their lives.

Seeing her again should have been a piece of cake. He’d expected an awkward moment or two and then a mutual acknowledgment of years past and a healthy acceptance of the present situation.

But he was wrong.

What he hadn’t counted on was Lizzie.

Her love of life and outgoing personality filled whatever room she entered with an energy that couldn’t be ignored. Everything he had loved about her then—her compassion for others, her sense of humor, her integrity, her sense of responsibility—had only grown and matured over the years.

Lizzie, draped protectively over a sleeping child. Lizzie, standing toe to toe with him, not afraid, not compromising her beliefs and forcing him to defend his therapy plan. Lizzie, in pain and trapped inside a vehicle, still in control and issuing orders to save others. Lizzie, bleeding, limping, frail.

Adam’s throat closed and he swallowed a lump of unshed tears.

She was still his Lizzie—if only he could chip through that cold, hard, protective shell she’d built around her heart and show her how he felt.

Dear Lord, help me. How am I going to win back a woman who doesn’t want to be won? I’ll give it my all, Lord, but I’m afraid this time my all won’t be enough. She’s built her armor too strong, her protective wall too tall. Only You can soften her heart. Please, Lord, show me the way to gain her forgiveness. I can’t bear losing her all over again.

“Adam?”

He heard a female voice call his name just seconds before eighty pounds of bounding yellow Lab jumped up on him.

“Down, Rerun.” He hugged the dog and gently pushed his forepaws off his body and to the ground. Tousling the dog’s fur, he raised his eyes in search of its owner. “Hi, Charlie.”

“‘Hi, Charlie’? That’s all you have to say?”

He arched an eyebrow.

“The good Lord in Heaven must have been riding shotgun with you on this one.” The petite redheaded woman reached out and touched the white gauze bandage on his forehead. “You’re hurt.”

Before Adam could utter a word, she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “You big, dumb lummox. You could have gotten yourself killed.”

Liz loudly cleared her throat and drew their attention.

Adam looked into Liz’s eyes. He wasn’t surprised to see the unspoken accusation lurking there. She’d made it painfully obvious from the moment he’d arrived back in town that nothing he said or did would be right with her.… But he wasn’t prepared for the pain he saw in those pale blue eyes, as well. Was she jealous? Was it too much to hope that she could possibly still harbor feelings for him? Yes, it probably was. Not after all these years. Not after everything he’d done. All he’d seen so far was indifference and a chill that made him want to wear thermal underwear in August.

Adam reached up and unhooked the woman’s arms from around his neck. He felt as guilty as a boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, even though he knew he didn’t have a doggone thing to feel guilty about.

“Lizzie…”

Liz stepped forward and extended her hand to the woman. “I’m Sheriff Bradford.”

They shook hands but not before Charlie sent a questioning glance his way. She’d picked up on the emotional undercurrents racing between him and the sheriff. She just hadn’t figured out yet what they were.

“Hello, Sheriff. I’m Charlene Haddonfield. My friends call me Charlie.” She reached down and patted the golden Lab lying patiently at her feet. “This is Rerun.”

Liz’s emotions slipped behind an unreadable mask. She locked her gaze with Adam’s. “This is Charlie? This is the person who is moving into the house with you and Jeremy?”

Adam hurried to explain before she added one more transgression against him. “Charlie is moving into the house with
all
of us. She’s been working with me off and on for years. She trains dogs and is working on a pilot program to provide support dogs for autistic children.”

Liz smiled first at Charlie and then at Rerun. “May I pet him?”

“Yes. Thanks for asking. So many people approach guide dogs as though they were pets, not workers, and sometimes it gets confusing for the animal.”

Liz crouched down toward the dog and grimaced as pain shot through her leg. The bleeding had stopped but the movement still hurt.

“Hello, boy. You’re a handsome fellow. Yes, you are.” Rerun wagged his tail enthusiastically but never moved from his position at Charlie’s feet. Liz looked up at both of them. “Where’s Jeremy? Has he seen him yet?”

Adam gestured to the open rear door of Darlene’s patrol car. Jeremy was belted inside.

“He’s seen him but doesn’t want anything to do with the dog at the moment,” Charlie said.

Liz shot her a questioning glance.

“Don’t worry,” Charlie said. “That’s not unusual. The boy’s been through enough today. We’ll introduce them little by little after we get home.”

Jeremy, who had looked like he hadn’t been paying any attention to the adults, was listening to every word. “Home. Jeremy wants to go home.”

The three adults chuckled.

Liz stood and opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel. “Sounds good to me, Jeremy. Let’s go home.”